A Brief Interlude
by Forged Obsidian
Summary: A compilation of various points of view as the galaxy changes around their heads. An AU post ROTJ, which happens to include a very much alive Vader.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: A Brief Interlude**

 **Author: Forged Obsidian**

Rating: PG

Category: General

Characters: A whole lot of OC's, with brief appearances by Vader, Luke, and Piett

Disclaimer: I'm just doing this for kicks and giggles and own literally zilch

Setting: Post-ROTJ AU

 **Summary** : **A compilation of various points of view as the galaxy changes around their heads. An AU post ROTJ, which happens to include a very much alive Vader.**

 **A Brief Interlude**

 **1./**

Treva Taj knew she was watching galactic history.

She was sitting in her quarters on the _Executor_ , currently docked at Coruscant. It was the first time in years - at least during her tenure on board - that the ship had actually landed. And - as if things weren't weird enough - Vader was offboard.

Their commander wasn't on his ship.

In fact, he seemed to be in the center of the Senate Chamber, standing on the tall middle spire reserved for the Emperor. About half the room was filled with government officials and senators who had responded to a call for an emergency session. They were confused, of course. Emperor Palpatine had dissolved the Senate only a few years ago. They hadn't expected to be called on anytime soon.

The image flickered, and Vader could be seen leaning forward onto the dashboard of the pod and gripping the edge of the podium. His deep voice was slightly distorted by the holoprojector. The Senate quieted and Vader spoke, deep baritone echoing in even her small chambers.

 _"It is with my deepest regrets that I must publicly announce the untimely death of Emperor Palpatine."_

The Senate seemed to freeze, and Treva couldn't really blame them. She herself had given a little gasp. Palpatine had been around since before she was born, had been elected Chancellor under the Republic when she was five years old. Now, by the time she was 40, he was gone. It was a little disorienting.

Suddenly the projector screeched, the small microphone unable to handle the sudden uproar from the present Senators. Vader raised his hands, and before long the officials quieted down.

 _"He was present for the completion of a military project when his group came under attack from rebel forces -"_

 _"Weren't you there, Lord Vader?"_ one Senator yelled, standing up in their pod and pointing.

Her commander slowly turned his head, the lenses in his mask pointing toward the uppity politician. Blood draining from their face, they sat down.

Turning back to address the room proper, Vader continued. _"Yes, I was present. As Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, it is my duty to supervise projects such as these. Unfortunately, the attack came when I was, by necessity, separated from the Emperor. Before long, the rebels had destroyed the ship Palpatine was on. Even if he had survived the initial explosion, the vacuum of space would soon have done its job."_

The entire senate was quiet. Vader himself paused, seeming to gather his breath before launching back into his speech.

 _"So the question is - what now. As Palpatine's second in command, it would make sense that I step into his place. Before-"_ here he shot a glance at the politician, who was already standing with his hands raised. _"- any of you say anything, I should specify. I have no intention of becoming Emperor. I belong on my ship, not behind a desk dictating policy."_ The politician swallowed, and sat back down.

 _"What I propose, senators, is that instead of putting a new Emperor in place, we do away with the Empire."_

Treva's mouth fell open. The Senate exploded in argument, and she leaned back in her chair, running her dark hands over her short-cropped hair. She was dimly aware of her door sliding open, two sets of boots walking in.

"Are you hearing this, boss?" Jenci Zatlan said, plopping down in the seat next to her. He quickly palmed off his own personal holoprojector, shoving it into a pocket.

"Bogus. That's what it is," said his companion, Bowen Kara.

Her quarters were small, but as the head of the 501st Medical Division she was allowed private quarters as opposed to Jenci and Bowen. It was something she was often grateful for. With her bunk pressed into the wall, the only other furniture present were two chairs and a small table, which was welded in place. Her holoprojector was sitting on the table, next to flimsi's of patient profiles and clerical work.

Bowen just plopped down onto her bunk, wadding up her pillow under his arm. "I mean - the Empire's been around for a while. What exactly is the commander thinking?"

Treva shushed them with a motion when the hologram began transmitting sound again, having cut it out for the general outburst of the Senate.

Vader leaned forward, and his voice seemed to become more intense. _"The Empire was in existence long before the Jedi Rebellion and the end of the Clone Wars. The powers of the Chancellor had been steadily increasing in response to the extended war, it only needed to be named and Imperial power. Since then, there has been constant conflict. Yes, it wasn't near to the level of destruction and loss of life that the Clone Wars achieved, but there was no peace. And in recent years - since the destruction of Palpatine's military project the Death Star - the Rebellion has only gained traction. The galaxy is at war. The old Republic didn't work, but this Empire hasn't achieved the necessary goal of any functional government - that of peace. There needs to be a change."_

The entire Senate was quiet, and in Treva's quarters the only sound was the constant background hum of the ship and the quiet breathing of the three inhabitants.

 _"I will not presume to tell you how to create a new government. However, if any of you have common sense, you will make contact with Mon Mothma and bring the Rebellion into the discussion. If the Rebellion in turn wishes to get involved, they will not be detained. I will maintain control of the Navy for some semblance of stability. The Executor will hold position above the planet, if only to act as a deterrent for attacks. If Mothma wishes to be a player in the creation of an entirely new system of government, she and all with her will be allowed to pass."_

The Senate was completely silent. The holofeed fizzed out as the Emperor's pod descended to the floor and the senators began talking among themselves.

"Well. That was certainly . . . something," Treva remarked, swiveling in her chair to look at her two companions. Jenci was just holding his chin in his hands, thinking. Bowen looked like he wanted to hit something.

"Did you see the people with him?" Jenci asked, breaking the momentary silence. "One looked like Piett, which makes sense. He hasn't been on board since we landed. The other though . . ."

"Looked like that Skywalker kid we've been chasing around," Bowen supplied, dark brows scowling over his brown eyes.

"I didn't even notice," Treva said.

"Why would Skywalker be there, though?" Bowen continued. "It's not like Vader would get along with a rebel, right?"

"At this point, no one really has any idea what's going on," Jenci said, slanted eyes blinking in thought. "For all we know, well, Vader or that boy could have been the one to kill Palpatine."

"Doubt it. Vader's never been really ambitious, at least when it comes to climbing a rank or two. I mean - it's gotta be pretty cushy being the Supreme Commander and everything," Bowen said. "Not very many places to go from there. Skywalker, though. He's a known rebel. Highest bounty out of the entire Rebellion and everything. He'd have a lot to gain from taking out the Emperor."

"Please, tell me how one man would be able to get past those Imperial Guards?"

"He's a Jedi, smart one. Why else would Vader hunt him down the way he has been? Remember the purges?"

Treva tapped the table. "You barely remember the Purges, Bowen. You were pretty young."

He glared at her. "That hardly matters. We've all heard the stories."

"Yeah, and those stories are never exaggerated, am I right?" Treva gave a thin smile at her coworker. "What I want to know is if the Rebels will go for it. The chance to make a new government. I mean - that's pretty big stuff."

Jenci leaned back in his chair. "Well, what exactly have they been fighting for? I know that a few of them want to bring back the Republic, but I don't see how that'll do anyone any good. It wasn't like it was a functional government."

"They did get some things done. It was just really corrupt."

The room was quiet. Bowen turned his large frame over in Treva's bed, cupping his hands behind his head and staring at the metal above his head. Jenci crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Treva just sighed and stretched.

She was the oldest in the room, Bowen being 8 years her younger. While she had only been 18 when the Republic fell, she could remember the chaos. Suddenly, the Clone Wars were declared over and there was a new Empire. The Jedi had rebelled, and been killed in retaliation. For a while, it had been insane. Then, things had settled down. She had finished medical school, then was drafted into the local militia. She was good at what she did, making her way up the ranks until she gained the attention of a member of Vader's personal squadron.

The 501st Legion was legendary, a mixture of the smartest, the most talented, the best of any in the entire Imperial Navy. And they wanted her. Their last Head Surgeon had taken a hit on some planet or another, working in the field. Having no surviving family, she said yes without hesitation. It had taken surprisingly little time to form connections, both with her fellow healers and some of the actual soldiers. She had even gone so far as to earn the praise of Darth Vader himself, after managing to successfully withdraw several ounces of shrapnel from a high ranking soldier who had later gone on to become one of her closest friends. She met Jenci and Bowen around the same time, both of them deciding to sit with her in the mess hall. They'd had to push aside multiple data pads and flimsis, all the while declaring that she worked too hard and needed a break.

Bowen Kara was a large light-skinned male human, someone who Treva would have usually avoided. Their resident cybernetics and prosthetics expert, he was often seen pouring over the latest editions of medical journals. He was broad shouldered, kept his brown hair at regulation length, and was rather stubborn. Treva didn't really connect with him until crossing paths after a severe battle that had resulted in hundreds of fatalities, both on the field and on their operating tables. His dark eyes had been red with tears. She could remember gently reaching up and gripping his shoulder, leading him to the mess, and grabbing them both hot drinks. They didn't speak to each other until the next shift. From then on, they understood each other.

Jenci Zatlan, on the other hand, was much easier to get along with. Dark skinned and slight of frame, he was generally gentle and thoughtful. His small hands were a boon on the operating table, which combined with his skill earned him the station as Assistant Head, essentially Treva's second. She had gotten along with him from when they first met, appreciating his willingness to see things from another point of view. Unfortunately, he could be extremely arrogant on occasion.

It was Bowen who broke the silence. "He stopped by to get a replacement, you know."

Jenci shot a glance at his friend. "What?"

"Vader. He stopped by. Right hand amputation. Secondary. Needed a replacement."

Treva looked at him in shock "Vader has a prosthetic hand? And you replaced it? And you're still alive?"

"No. He just picked up a replacement and left. Didn't say much, just gave me a list for parts. It was weird."

Treva gestured at the holoprojector. "He looked fine for that whole, uh, thing."

"Still. Shows that we have no idea what's going on."

They went quiet again. Everything felt strange, momentary. Suddenly, Treva was aware of just how big the events of the day were. Everything was changing, and their commander was right in the middle of it. She smiled to herself. Vader's distaste of anything having to do with politics was well known on his ship. No wonder he got out of the Senate room as soon as possible.

The fact that the Rebellion might get involved gave her pause, though. She had lost too many patients and friends to their blasters and fighters. If they did get involved, did that mean that their organization would dissolve? Would the fighting be over? Would the two groups merge, or would the Navy itself be dismissed? At this point, she couldn't see her being able to move past being excused. She loved her job, the work she did, the people she worked with. She loved this ship, the people who manned it, her tiny room. There was even a certain affection for her superiors, people who did what they could to make sure as many soldiers as possible made it back to the Executor. She couldn't imagine leaving.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" Jenci's voice seemed loud.

Treva looked at her companions, keeping her expression blank. "Yes. And no one knows how things are going to turn out."

Bowen sat up, swinging his feet over the edge of her bunk. "It's in the Rebel's field, now."

Jenci sighed. "Let's just hope they know what they're doing."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

You're going to need a little explanation about where this came from and where it's going.

When I was going through my Star Wars tag on my tumblr, I got an idea.

A fic idea.

I wanted to explore both the idea of what would have happened if Vader survived ROTJ, as well as what exactly happened to him physically post-Mustafar. I mean, that scene where he's getting his artificial limbs welded to his body while he is _still awake_ is enough to give me ideas of what Palpatine's view of healthcare for maimed Sith apprentices is, and it's not healthy in the slightest. So, I decided to write that.

And it quickly got out of hand.

I needed OC's, political plotlines that made sense, and suddenly something I was planning on only having 4 or 5 chapters is gonna need, like, 15. And already I have ideas for sequels. For, you know, this thing I still need to write.

So I decided the best way to do this would be to get the majority of my OC's cemented while simultaneously having them react to things post ROTJ. It will save both me and you the tedium of having to read about it in a pure exposition. So, really, this is just going to be a sort of prequel for the real project that I'm working hardest on.

So far, I'm planning for this prequel-thing to have about 4 chapters. This first one is about a medical unit for the 501st Imperial Naval division. The second, about some 501st soldiers. This one will be a few months after this first one-shot. The third will be about a year after the second Death Star, and will take the point of view from some former Rebellion soldiers. The fourth will be a brief epilogue.

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave a review! If you spot any typos, feel free to bring my attention to them. I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but I'm planning for sometime next weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

**2./**

Acting as escort for Darth Vader was something Captain Bregan Holt had done many times, though never in the Senate Halls of Coruscant. Escorting him to a meeting with senators was another first. And the fact that a group of former Rebel soldiers would be joining them just added to the strangeness.

Honestly, it was a bit weird all around.

Vader didn't really need the escort, of course. He was strong enough to take care of anyone who might be idiotic enough to try anything. He just wanted them there as extra security around the senate Rotunda. After all, not even their commander could be everywhere at once. And, considering the fact that this meeting was to finalize a system of government that had been in discussion for six standard months, any extra troops would be welcome.

 _'Well, it'll be interesting if nothing else'_ she thought, following Vader down a long and ornate hallway.

Their group came to a stop before a set of wide double doors, made of actual wood instead of treated plastisteel.

Vader, who was at the head of the column, turned to address his troops.

"You are to stay outside these doors, Commander. Dispatch the proper numbers to other areas. If anything seems wrong, contact me immediately." He turned to the open doors, stopping just before entering. "And if by some misfortune this takes longer than three hours, contact me irregardless."

Bregan snapped to attention, and heard all the stormtroopers behind her follow suit. "Yessir."

The doors fell shut with a hollow boom, Vader disappearing behind them with a quiet rustle of his cape. For several minutes the troopers just stood guard. When she felt enough time had passed, Bregan turned to her second. "This'll be fine. Keep at least four guards at each doorway. I'll be here, you monitor the comms. Tell me when our Rebel friends are gonna arrive or if any of the dispatches fail to make the check-in."

The second nodded, helmeted head bobbing up and down. The troops who weren't positioned in the other hallways relaxed marginally, some removing their helmets and leaning against the walls. Their blasters were still close at hand, though, and more than one of her men had their fingers resting on their triggers.

Bregan sighed, her helmet masking the sound. Her men were tense, which wasn't surprising. While she normally would have been on them about keeping their helmets on and standing at attention, there just wasn't enough willpower left for her to issue the reprimand. There hadn't been an armed conflict that they had to be present for in at least six months. Ever since Vader dropped a figurative bombshell on the entire galaxy, the 501st had been stationed around Coruscant. But, as soldiers, sometimes constant readiness for battle tested patience more than actual combat. She needed them to relax a little, and she knew that if there was someone foolish enough to try to get into the conference room through the halls they would be blasted full of laser before they could get close enough to do anything.

She couldn't speak for the Rebel reinforcements, but she knew her men would be able to handle anything that came their way - helmets or not.

.

.

.

"They're on their way, captain," echoed the voice of her second in her ear. Before long the sound of a substantial number of boots hitting the carpet filtered through her helmet. A group of soldiers soon rounded the corner of the wall, led by a short brown-haired man. Their armor was mismatched, most of it scarred and carrying patches of green and brown camouflage. They came to a disorderly halt before her, the lead man - who seemed to have the look of a pilot instead of a ground soldier - holding up his hand.

Bregan's eyes went up and down behind the lenses of her helmet, taking in the man before her. After a moment she gave a little salute, stating "Captain Bregan Holt, at your service. Wedge Antilles, am I correct?"

The man in front nodded, putting one hand onto his belt and extending the other in a handshake. Bregan was at least a foot taller than Wedge, so it was a little comical. Still, she reached out and gave a firm grip and shake.

"Yeah, that's me. This is Rogue Squadron and, yes, before you ask, we are usually a pilot crew. We're on the ground today."

Bregan nodded. "We've positioned ourselves outside every door into the rotunda. Another group is outside."

"I could send my people as support, if that's what you were thinking."

"I don't see why that wouldn't work."

Wedge sent nearly all his people down the separate hallways that honeycombed the space outside the rotunda. While there weren't nearly as many former Rebels as there were of Bregan's troops, there were enough to substantially support the stormtroopers and strengthen several weak points in their surveillance.

After he was done sending his people away, Wedge looked at Bregan out of the corner of his eye and shifted in front of the main door. "Guess I'll stay here."

Bregan didn't answer, though she did move next to him to stand in front of the entrance. They were both quiet for some time, Wedge occasionally shifting his weight and handling the edge of his blaster. Eventually, though, he broke the silence.

"So, uh. Where are you from?" He didn't look at her, instead turning his head to glance down the hallway closest to him.

Bregan smiled beneath her helmet. "Akiva. Grew up near a local canyon. You?"

Wedge nodded absently. He felt that the name 'Holt' was familiar, and was trying to place why. He almost didn't hear her question.

"Hmm? Oh, Corellia."

Bregan nodded. They were both quiet again for a while, shifting in place and monitoring their respective comms. Eventually Bregan gave a great sigh, holstering her blaster and reaching up to fiddle with her helmet clasps.

Wedge glanced over. "What is it?"

Bregan huffed in discomfort. "These helmets squeeze your head after a while. Getting a headache." She made a small satisfied noise as the catch under her jaw unclipped. Bregan slipped her helmet off, shaking her head a little to ease it past the elastic neckline. When her head came into clear view - short cropped blond hair framing a gentle face - Wedge's eyes widened marginally.

". . . what?"

Wedge quickly looked away, breaking his gaze. "Sorry."

Bregan raised one eyebrow and gave a little smile. "It's fine."

Early in her time with the 501st she had taken a hard hit from a crude shrapnel bomb. The left side of her face was a map of scars, some wide and others wire-thin. Her damaged left eye had been removed and replaced with a prosthetic, it's ocular sensor glowing blue. The blast had taken off her ear as well, and the round disk that served as a replacement hummed quietly. The map of scars disappeared below the rubber neckline of her armor.

Bregan nonchalantly jumped into an explanation. "Some shrapnel kinda exploded in my face a while back. Went all over, made a pretty big mess. Luckily our medical unit is made of miracle-workers, so instead of being dead I get to be alive. And all it took was removing near half-a-pound of metal scrap."

"Oh. That's quite, uh, something."Wedge shifted uncomfortably.

Bregan gave a grin, aware of how it twisted the scar tissue across her face. "Makes new members awkward. Useful for weeding out the squeamish ones."

Wedge gave a thin, but sincere, grin. "I'll bet."

Bregan leaned against the wall. At first she had been uncomfortable about how people acted when they saw her scars, but given time - and a few promotions - she had grown used to it. Wedge had actually reacted better than quite a few other people. "And what's your story? Hook up with the Rebellion for a thrill?"

Wedge shot her a glare, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. "No, that's not why I joined."

Bregan held her hands up. "No offense."

Wedge snorted and looked down the hallway. Two stormtroopers had started a card game of some sort, still standing in their rows and using a hologram card deck. More than one of Wedge's people was watching with interest.

"I . . . needed to find something. That's it, really."

Bregan stared at her companion, face blank. "Remind me to never play sabacc against you. That's a hell of a poker face."

Wedge snorted.

Bregan gave a twisted smile and turned to the trooper next to her. "How long has it been?"

"Only two hours, sir."

She nodded.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wedge asked.

She snorted. "Nah. The boss just wants to get a comm if this meeting goes over three hours."

"What happens if it goes over three hours?"

"Honestly, no idea. Don't wanna find out though."

Wedge gave her a weird look. "And your boss is who exactly?"

Bregan smirked and leaned her head back against the wall. "Did Skywalker not tell you and yours who you were standing guard with?"

"No. He just smiled when we asked and said something about 'walking in with a blank slate.'"

"You," Bregan said in a sing-song voice. "-are currently standing guard with the elite of the 501st, troopers under the command of Lord Vader himself."

Wedge's face paled, and on reaction his hand twitched towards the blaster strapped to his thigh. Bregan just looked at him and laughed.

"Relax. If we were gonna do anything, would have done it already."

Wedge swallowed past the lump in his throat, and his voice came out a bit higher than he would have liked. "Says the captain of the 501st."

Bregan just gave a toothy smile, the effect boosted by several artificial teeth gleaming in the left side of her mouth. "'S all water under the bridge, or plasma over the counter, or however you want it. Woulda killed you if I wanted too."

"That's reassuring," Wedge snorted, trying to even out his heart rate. Bregan shot him a smile, making sure to crinkle the edges of her eyes.

Both of them turned to look down the hallway. Some of Wedge's men had joined in with the card players, two even standing beside and bumping shoulders with Bregan's stormtroopers. One of the Rebels swiped up a holographic card, smirking and stretching out their hands. The others all threw down their hands, one trooper reaching over to gather the cards for a reshuffle. It was relaxed, aware, and enjoyable. Not something either of them had ever experienced in the presence of the other.

"'S nice," Bregan said. She crossed her arms and propped herself against the doorframe. Wedge nodded in agreement. For a while the just watched their men interacting.

Wedge eyed Bregan discreetly. He knew, logically, that stormtroopers were people. But it had been easier to deal with killing them if he thought of them as mindless drones, or even droids, that threatened his cause. Now, though, he was very glad that they didn't have to fight. He didn't hate this captain, and was a little surprised at her apparent efforts to get along with him. It was still a little confusing for Wedge, to be so close to people who had been the enemy for several years and not be shooting at each other. But he figured he could get over it soon enough.

"So what's it like serving under Skywalker? Heard he's something of a daredevil."

Wedge laughed, any remaining tension bleeding out of his shoulders. "He is at that. He's a wonderful leader, one of the best pilots I've ever seen, too. Though . . . after Hoth it was a while before I flew with him again. It's only really after Endor that he's been back around. Sorta. He's had to spend a lot of time on Courscant."

Bregan nodded. "He's been spending a lot of time here with the Commander. No wonder you haven't seen him. Heard great things about him, though. Spent a lot of time trying to pin him down."

Wedge nodded and smiled. Luke's ability to escape the Empire by the skin of his teeth was astounding. Then he frowned. "And what's it like with Vader?" Wedge tried to not spit out the last word.

Bregan closed her eyes. When she answered her words were slow. "Dangerous, mostly. But if you do your job and stay out of his way, chances are you'll make it. The higher your rank, the more responsibility, greater chance of screwing up and being _removed_. But, unlike the majority of others, our Commander is out on the front lines with us. Never gets hit - there's a rumor that he's not exactly mortal - which is complete idiocy if you ask me - but at least he's there."

Wedge was silent. The card game had changed players. The noise level beyond the door stayed quiet.

Bregan turned to the pilot. "You know, there's a bar not too far from here. Me and my men stop by every now and again to initiate new recruits and get the medics outta their labs 'n such. Your lot should stop by sometime."

Wedge lifted an eyebrow. "We'd make quite the sight, don't you think?"

"Not as much as you would think. We go in slacks. Armor isn't the most comfortable thing you know."

He smirked. That hadn't been quite what he meant. Still. . . "Why not? Might even convince Luke to stop by. What's the address?"

As Bregan coded the address into Wedge's manual her comm trilled. She handed the datapad back to the pilot, and gestured to her troops. "Back in formation. They're done." She didn't replace her helmet, simply tucking it into her side and holding it with one arm.

The troopers fell back into their ranks, replacing helmets and hiding card decks. Wedge gestured to his people and they raggedly fell in next to the orderly rows of Bregan's men. A few minutes later and the doors were cycled open.

Politicians and officials filed out, moving through the gap between the two security forces. Their chatter was subdued, nearly nonexistent. They seemed to be in shock. Bregan thought their silence was pretty understandable, considering what they had just accomplished.

Vader walked out of the conference room, long strides eating the ground between him and the 501st. Wedge scampered backwards, trying to stay well out of the man's way.

"Holt. We are returning to the ship. Gather the troops." Through the distortion of the vocoder Vader's voice sounded snippy and annoyed. Bregan pushed down a smile, nodded, replaced her helmet, and relayed Vader's order to her soldiers. She gave a quick salute to Wedge, lifting two fingers to her forehead and flicking them in his direction. Wedge gave her a one-sided smile and a little wave.

Vader had already disappeared down the hallway, his long strides eating up the ground before the troops could catch up. However, it didn't take long for them to be walking down the empty hallway in a proper formation. Bregan took her position behind the left shoulder of Vader, far enough behind him to not step on his cape. They walked in silence, save for the hiss of Vader's respirator and the quiet click of stormtrooper armor. After a while, though, the Commander's deep baritone registered in Bregan's ear.

"Holt. How did you find your reinforcements?" Vader hadn't turned his head to address her.

"Adequate, sir. They were cooperative and well mannered." Neither of them broke their pace. Bregan was tall enough to be able to keep up with Vader with ease, though he was one of the few people she had to actually look up to.

"Good."

Bregan got the strangest sense that Vader was smiling behind his mask.

.

Luke was almost the last one out, following Organa and Mothma. The two senators gave Wedge a small wave before turning down the lefthand hallway, both slightly leaning on each other. Meanwhile, Luke made a beeline for Rogue Squadron. Wedge was at his side the moment he separated from the senators, the former Rebel soldiers right behind him. He clapped his hand on Luke's shoulder, squeezing a bit harder than was strictly necessary.

"Good job in there, Luke," he said, giving Luke's shoulder a little shake. "Let's run by Dex's - you look exhausted."

Luke gave a thin smile. "You're angry about the 501st, arent' you?"

Wedge shrugged. "A little. I would have liked a warning, but I think I understand why you didn't."

Luke gave a small nod. "I just - I really want this whole 'military combo' thing to go well. It's a great idea. I'm glad that it worked out. Sorta."

Wedge threw an arm around Luke's shoulders. "Yeah. Holt was actually pretty civil. Didn't try to kill me or anything."

Luke snorted. "So do you think the rest of the squad will get along with them?"

"Sure, I don't see why not. They were actually playing cards together for a bit."

A sneaky grin made it's way onto Luke's face. "Good. That's very good."

Wedge's stomach dropped a bit. Whenever Luke got that particular glint in his eyes it usually meant that a near-death experience would follow. "Why is that 'good'?"

Luke just ducked away, and his shoulders jerked in an attempt to hold laughter in. "Rogue Squadron is going to be working together with Captain Holt and the 501st for the foreseeable future."

Wedge stopped in his tracks. "What?!"

* * *

 **Author's Note**

I apologize for taking so long to update. College metaphorically kicked my butt. And, for whatever reason, this chapter was not very easy to write. It got to the point where I just wanted to get it up and move on to the next thing. I might come back in a while and smooth it over, but who knows.

While Bregan was the only real OC introduced in this chapter, her second in command will be more fleshed out in the next one. Also, I've noticed that I really enjoy giving all these characters ~Star Wars-y~ names.


	3. Chapter 3

**3./**

"So, how was everybody's day?" quipped Daren Jarek in a chipper voice.

The former rebels seated around the table gave him a variety of glares before turning back to their food. Jarek rubbed the back of his neck. "No need to be so welcoming, honestly." He put down his food tray and slid under the table, bumping shoulders with a fellow former rebel.

Siolo Tirtuvet was an Twi'lek and quite a bit taller than Jarek. Black tattoos wound their way up his green lekku, disappearing under the dull blue headband he always wore. The medic was currently picking at his food, staunchly avoiding the brown crackers tucked in the corner of his tray.

"So, Siolo, how're things?" Jarek stabbed at something on his tray. "This was your first day with the Imp medics, right?" He eyed the end of his fork before taking a quick bite.

Siolo snorted and dropped his spoon onto his plate. "Yeah, unfortunately."

"Was it really that bad?"

Conflicting emotions flashed across Siolo's face. "It wasn't terrible - their head, a woman named Taj, seems competent enough. She definitely has an inner circle, though, which is a bit concerning."

"Yeah? How so?"

"One of them I can appreciate - he seems professional enough. The other, though . . ."

"That bad, huh?"

Siolo groaned and put his head into his hands. "I have never met someone more arrogant, egotistical, and downright crude as _Kara_." He moved his hands and put his head on the table with a little more force than was necessary. "He's a prosthetics expert, so naturally I was expecting someone with a little tact. Instead, he's a muscle-bound idiot with little to no inclination towards cooperation. How Taj tolerates him I don't think I'll ever know."

Jarek quirked an eyebrow. "I thought 'big and burly' was your type, though?"

"Not this time."

"He's really rough around the edges, then?"

"No, that's not what _really_ bothers me." Siolo glared and raised his head. "It's the fact that he's a former Imperial."

". . . oh. Gotcha."

"I mean, he worked under a government that actively condoned _slavery_. That's not something I can overlook, no matter how attractive. And I have to work with an entire group of former Imperials. It's just . . ."

Jarek patted Siolo's shoulder. "I hear ya, buddy. And that's a 100% valid reason to dislike him, for sure." He poked at something on his plate. "And if he gives you any trouble, feel free to sucker punch him."

Siolo gave a small laugh, some of the irritation fading from his face. "Concerned about me, Daren?"

"Well, after all those ridiculous stunts you've pulled throughout the years, someone has to be." Jarek grinned and flicked some of his food onto Siolo's plate.

Ilyano Tobruxe promptly leaned over the table and took a cracker from Siolo's tray. "Yeah, we all know how reckless you can be." She smirked and took a nibble of the cracker. Tobruxe was a fairly short Zabrack, her white facial tattoos highlighting her cheekbones and the small crown of horns that dotted her dark head. "Let's not bring up Janderaan, shall we?"

Siolo groaned. "That was _one_ time!"

"It's not funny." The other occupant at their table spoke up for the first time. Ruk Sal was a greasy wire of a man, with a scraggly beard and a scar along his cheekbone. "It's absolute crap that we have to work with the people who not more than a year ago were out for our heads."

Tobruxe rolled her eyes. "Ah yes, peace, what a terrible thing." She looked at the man sitting next to her. "I understand being angry and all that, but I'm just glad we're not killing each other anymore."

"Don't you dare try to make me out as the bad guy, Tobruxe. We're working with _his_ unit now, you know. It's a damned insult after everything we've been through." Sal sood with a squeal of his chair, grabbing his tray and stalking back through the mess hall.

"Geeze, what crawled under his skin?" Tobruxe muttered, stabbing her fork into her food. "I don't like it either."

Jarek sighed and poked at his tray. "He's like that. He always has to say what everyone's thinking, even if it doesn't come out in the most . . . diplomatic way."

"He's gonna get himself hurt one of these days."

There was a sudden ruckus not far away from their table. A group of people swelled and swarmed, and the group could hear yelled threats and the clatter of dinnerware.

As a whole everyone stood and made their way over to the commotion, unsurprised at what they found.

A large former Imperial had the remains of a meal smeared across their uniform, splatters of food dotting their arms. Jarek could see the welts raising from where the hot food rested on the Imperial's skin, and he gave a sympathetic wince.

At the other end of the group was Sal, a coy expression on his face. "Watch where you're going, Imp."

The Imperial, a tall muscled man with blond hair, winced and shook food from his arm. Without much prompting his hand pulled into a fist and he took a step towards Sal. A smaller Imperial, her badge clear on her uniform, threw her arms around her companion's waist and tried to hold him back.

A fight was brewing, and everyone knew.

"Stand down!" An officer waded her way through the crowd, her voice ringing out. Several people promptly left.

The officer was short, but not as short as the Imperial gripping her companion's waist. A clean haircut framed a plain face, and only the bloks on her uniform noted her authority. Jarek quickly ran through his mental list, coming to the decision that this was a lieutenant, likely the second to Holt's unit.

The officer came to a stop in front of the pair of Imperials, her gaze unreadable. "Cyprian." She looked at the man. "Fane. Care to explain this?"

"It wasn't ol' Fane who started it, captain." Cyprian was still holding back her much larger companion, skinny arms thrown around his hips.

"Oh? And who was?" Korinth twitched one eyebrow as she looked around the circle, her piercing green eyes landing on Sal. Her expression was blank. "Care to explain, soldier?"

Sal sneered. "I don't see why we rebels have to work with you _imperials_."

Korinth nodded. "That's hardly an uncommon opinion. Still, not enough reason to cause trouble for the changing system. You're dismissed to your quarters until you calm down." She turned her back on Sal, looking over the mess splattered across his uniform.

Sal sneered, pulled a fist back, and stepped toward Korinth.

Without missing a beat Korinth twisted, ducking under Sal's arm and throwing the palm of her hand into the center of his chest. The air went out of his chest with a _woosh_ and he fell backwards, sprawling at the legs of the people surrounding them. Korinth straightened, gently brushing her hand on her pants. Her face was blank.

"Now, then." She turned to the pair. "Cyprian, if you would assist Fane to the medical ward. I need you all in fighting shape, and those burns look painful. As for you -" She looked back at Sal, who was wheezing on the ground and trying to get to his feet. "I would appreciate it if you at least tried to follow the orders of your superior."

"You ain't -" Sal spat on the ground. "- my _superior._ "

"I didn't mean me, soldier."

"'Suppose you mean that commander of yours? Eh? The Emperor's -"

"Watch your tongue, Ruk Sal. And no, I wasn't referring to my commander. I was referring to Skywalker."

Sal frowned and wiped at his mouth. "Skywalker? Who knows how far he can be trusted, getting all buddy-buddy with a monster like _that_?"

Korinth raised an eyebrow and shifted her weight onto one leg. "If you have so many issues with how things are going to be done, then you're welcome to leave."

He snorted and slowly got to his knees, wincing at the ache in his chest. "Nah, I wanna be there when this blows up in your faces." He gave a gap-toothed grin and staggered out of the circle, hand around his midsection.

"Ma'am, are you sure you don't want to do anything about him?" Cyprian had held back, and Korinth could see the broad back of Fane heading towards a nearby hallway.

She shook her head. "His concerns are valid, while his means of expressing them leave something to be desired."

She looked over at Jarek and Tobruxe. "I take it Sal is a companion of yours?"

Tobruxe shifted before nodding. Jarek pulled at his collar, his gaze off to the side as he said "Yeah, sorry about that."

"He's not the only one with such a sentiment." She looked around the people still gathered around her. An eyebrow twitched, and she raised her voice. "If any of you intend to cause deliberate harm to our operations from here out, it would be best for you to leave. Any further disturbances will not be tolerated."

The group shifted, and slowly started to disperse. Jarek and Tobruxe exchanged a glance, and Siolo groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Well," Jarek said. "At least we won't be able to say things are boring."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I apologize for how long it took to update this thing.

Originally Published: 4/23/2017


	4. Chapter 4

**4./**

"Hey! Antilles!"

Wege turned, and the smiling face of Captain Holt swam in his vision. There was a happy flush to her cheeks, and her hair was in disarray.

"Took you long enough! Did you get lost?"

Wedge snorted, aware of his fellow former rebels forming up behind him. "Oh please, everyone knows where Dex's is."

Holt laughed. "Glad you could make it! Here, lemme introduce you."

"Oh, that's not really -"

"It's fine! I got my folks here, 'n we're just relaxing before shipping off in the next few days. You 'n yours are welcome!" She gestured towards a table. "Hey, Hanel, remember Wedge?"

A woman Wedge recognized as Hanel Korinth, Holt's second in command, gave him an acknowledging nod over her mug.

"Sit 'ere, have a drink!" Holt pushed Wedge into a chair and plopped a glass in front of him, the cool amber liquid inside swirling and foaming.

 _Might as well_ , Wedge thought. He knocked back the cup to the laugher of Holt and the quiet amusement of Korinth.

Jarek and Tirtuvet walked slowly through the gathered throng, Tobruxe trailing after them. They all seemed to migrate towards a small table, occupied by two familiar people. They stopped in view of the two former Imperials, Jarek twisting his hands in apology.

"Hey, man, sorry about yesterday. It was one of our dearly beloved companions that had a run-in with you in the cafeteria."

Fane gave a slow nod. "It is fine."

"Fane doesn't hold a grudge," a giggling girl said, leaning around her chair and peering at the newcomers. Her curly hair bounced when she laughed. "He's a big softie like that."

Tobruxe looked at the drink in the girl's hand. "Is that what I think it is?"

The girl gave a coy smile. "You bet it is. I had to save up several payments to get my hands on it, but when it comes to tried-and-true Mixan whisky, it's always worth the effort." She shook her glass. "Want some?"

Tobruxe whistled. "For sure." She turned back to her companions. "You all, get lost. I want in on this."

"Linh Cyprian," the girl said, extending her hand. Tobruxe took it with a smile. Fane looked between them with a humorous glint in his eyes.

The pair walked on, coming to a stop in front of another table.

Tirtuvet nodded. "Taj."

"Siolo."

"Oh boy," Jarek muttered, feeling Tirtuvet go steely next to him.

A large burly man gave Tirtuvet a steely gaze over the top of his glass.

Still, Tirtuvet was polite and acknowledged the other resident of the table. "Kara, hello."

The man snorted. "If you're looking for Jenci, he said something about getting in on some Mixan drink. Feel free to leave."

Taj slapped Kara's shoulder. "Don't be rude." There was a blush to her dark skin. "Tirtuvet's a good man, 'n you could stand to learn some manners from him. Actually," she looked at her glass, "I need a refill. Go cool off and come back with some whisky. I don't care what kind."

Kara rolled his eyes, but seemed grateful for the offered escape. Tirtuvet and Jarek took to the empty seats around the table, Taj and the twi'lek immediately going into talking business and arguing over proper suturing techniques.

Jarek sighed. "Well, I guess some people'll get along, and others won't."

Several of them saw Taj again the next morning, complaining of hangovers.

* * *

"Remind me to take you on a vacation somewhere, Princess."

Leia hummed into Han's chest, enjoying the feel of his arms around her back.

"I'm serious! You deserve it after all that political riggamarole."

"I think I agree."

Han chuckled, and his laugh echoed through her chest.

The traffic of Courscant flashed by their windows, the drawn shades adding to the feeling that they were the anchors in an otherwise spiraling universe.

"So, what's the plan now?" Han leaned back, looking down at Leia and shooting a grin. "We hop over to the next galaxy and get rid of another dictator?"

Leia smacked his chest. "Oh, hush." Her amusement faded, and he gave a laden sigh. "The military merger is going to go through, and then Luke will be in charge of tracking down the most dangerous Imperial sympathizers. The ones that go out of their way to hurt others."

"Vader'll be with him."

"I know."

"Hey." Han squeezed her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. Luke can handle himself. For now, just relax. I know that goes against your general plans, but I'd recommend it."

She smiled. "You're a doctor now, as well as a general?"

"Well, I'm a busy man." He snorted and pulled her closer. "I think I'm happy, Leia. 'S nice."

She smiled into his chest, aware that he could feel it. "I'm happy too."

* * *

Vader stalked along the main cabin of the _Executor_ , his weighted steps evenly treading their usual path around walkways and inlaid command stations. The activity of the Coruscant spaceport could be seen through the wide windshields.

He could feel more than he could see Piett walk up to his side, stopping at attention.

"Preparations are all ready, my lord. Coordinates for the fleet are set, and we wait simply for your command."

Vader hummed, but it was light enough to not be picked up by the vocoder. "We . . . will wait a moment or two more."

"Very well."

He felt Piett's amusement through the Force, and chose not to comment on it. The admiral walked away, the heels of his boots clicking against the clean floor.

Vader continued to watch out the windscreen, the red tint of his mask flushing his faulty vision and keeping him from focusing completely on the activity beyond the viewport.

He had been surprised when Organa had proposed her idea to him. While flushing out dangerous Imperial sympathizers was certainly something he was capable of doing, he was shocked to find the senator proposing the idea to him personally.

They had yet to talk about their discovered blood-relation, and Vader wasn't going to be the one to breach that wall. He had lost that right, and he was more than willing to leave the decision up to her. A voice filled with sand echoed in the back of his head ( _"Family by choice before family by blood."_ ) and he understood that he had missed his chance with someone who might have been a daughter.

He wouldn't make the same mistake with Luke.

He could feel the presence of his son step up next to him. Luke reached out and bumped Vader's upper arm with a loosely coiled fist.

"You ready?"

"Yes. I was waiting for you. This is a joint venture, after all."

Luke laughed. "Well . . . here we go."

Vader couldn't help but grin behind his mask as they entered hyperspace.

* * *

End/

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Alright, so here's what's going on.

First of all, I do intend to continue this story with another installment. It's something I love it too much to just let rot in my files.

That being said, I've really lost my drive for this story. It'll be a very long time before I feel ready enough to post anything, but when I, do it'll be here.

There's a variety of reasons for me stepping away from this story. I'm a college student, closing in on getting my Bachelors, and considering going in for a Masters. Also, once I realized the size of the story I was going to have to go for, I got intimidated and balked at how large it was going to be. For the most part, though, I'm much more engaged with and excited about my upcoming Boku no Hero Academia projects.

Thank you so much for the responses to my OC's, and for your patience when it took forever for me to update this thing. This story is something I want to do right, and as of now the only way that'll happen is through a lot of time.

If there's anything you want to know or need me to clarify, feel free to shoot me a message here or on tumblr.

Thanks for reading!

Originally Published: 5/8/2017


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